A Path Painted in Red
by Sabet163
Summary: Excerpt: The two standing beside the bed smiled maliciously as they stared at the scars upon his face. They were the mark of their success, the mark of the plan that had been formulated long ago. The mark that would someday ensue perfection in the corrupted world, and it was sealed by the mark of the star, the pentacle, the mark of evil..; AU
1. Prologue

**A/N: Well this here would be the beginning/prologue to a story idea of mine. The point of this little thing here is to see whether anyone would actually be interested in this story or not, so if you liked it and want me to continue let me know so I can decide on whether I should or not. Well, on to the prologue now.**

**~ Sabet**

**Disclaimer: I do not own -man, if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfictions, now would I?**

**Rating: I'm going to make this T-rated for now. (By the way, if you think this alone needs to be higher rated let me know, I'm not very good with that kind of thing.)**

* * *

Darkness enveloped the room that took on the similar qualities of the sterile room of a hospital, with its slender barred bed, multiple medical materials, and plain simple details. With no windows within the room it appeared to be stained a dark grey from the darkness that filled almost every corner, the only light being that which came from the small opening between the door and the frame of it. Silence, along with the faint sound of beeping, was the only thing that accompanied the dreary atmosphere which filled the small room. But nothing was able to disturb the young occupant of the bed and small room. Pale skin was hidden beneath plain linen sheets and chestnut brown locks of hair. Dark lashes laid against rounded cheeks of a cherubic face full of childish innocence.

Slender tubes were attached to the face of the child with two pieces of tape, providing the child with oxygen as he lay unconscious. His chest slowly rose and fell with each intake of air, filling his lungs with a slight rasping sound and then releasing it with a sigh. Several other tubes lay against his wrist, all of which had punctured his fragile flesh long ago. Liquids dripped from the pouches of medical substances that hung on the hooks of the lean metal medical stands, and slowly slid through the tubes down into his unmoving body.

Months had gone by and the small form hadn't moved an inch since the last procedure that had robbed him of his consciousness, leaving him in this comatose state. Although his unconsciousness provided no resistance to his captors they made no move to do anything more to him, just leaving him to rest in that drab room all alone.

Although he was usually all alone in the room he was under constant watch even without the people being there. The cameras situated within the room enabled the dark skinned people to watch over him every hour of the day, and some of them took turns watching the young boy within the security room. One of the captors, a young girl, was there a majority of the time. He interested her in ways no one else could understand, and most of her time was spent watching him in that dark security room, which would only be lit up by the light of the numerous screens, all of which would be positioned on the boy at some angle to ensure she could not miss a thing.

Whether he be just sleeping peacefully, or even fitfully as he did at times, she was there watching him. Her companions wondered if she cared for the boy, or if she was just simply worried about the results of the numerous procedures and what it would do to him, if it would even work. So far, there had been no signs that they were achieving their goal, but that had not kept them from continuing. It only had made them work harder. But their ambitions brought him to this comatose state, resulting in them pausing in their procedures to let his body rest.

Soft golden eyes settled on the screen focused on the young boy's covered face, watching every slight movement of his body, every twitch. The black and white screen cast a glowing light upon the smooth flesh of her rounded face, her luminous eyes gaining a predatory look as she watched the boy intently.

Some might think by the way she acted that she was obsessed with him, but it was simply a matter of interest. Not only was he different in so many ways from her, but even from normal humans, especially when it came to his will and mental capabilities. Even for a child, he had an extraordinary will to live, to keep going. So powerful it was that when they had first captured their prey he, unlike most people his age, refused to give in and fought with all his might, and never did give in to the thought of death. No matter how many times he was almost forced to face it. On several occasions they had to bind his wrist and legs to the bars of the bed and sometimes even had to drug him, though they avoided doing the latter.

The young female grimaced as she recalled the many times her accomplices had to hold the young boy down as he would thrash about and scream, his eyes opened wide and filled with a mixture of terror and anger. Every time those eyes met hers as she would climb over him with the needle in her hand, the vial filled with a sedative so they could control the boy. His pain and anger over his own helplessness emanated from him, and as she sat atop him and felt his body go limp beneath her after she would inject the liquid into his writhing body, watched his eyes lose their glow of ire and dread, she could almost feel his emotions pouring into her. Slowly they would fill her to the core, and whether what she felt was just sympathy or his actual pain was a mystery to her, but the tears always came.

Beads of crimson would roll down from her honey eyes, providing a luster of scarlet red for her dark skin. They would fall continuously until she would will them away and wipe the substance from her eyes and cheeks, although it would only smear it across her countenance.

It always amazed her how this young boy could make her like this, especially since she usually was sadistic, and in the eyes of many, twisted. Just as the others in her company, she found delight in the pain in others and sometimes even enjoyed it herself. A sadist and a masochist by nature, this way for many years and still to this very day, but when it came to this boy it was different.

She wasn't sure if she was glad or disgusted or even angry at herself for this, or even the small boy, for she could be any of those. Glad for the new feelings she developed and experienced, disgusted by her display of sympathy and sorrow and care, or angry for developing a possible weakness in this boy. But yet, she felt nothing but numbness and an interest in the young child.

A sigh left her lips as she scraped her teeth against the soft flesh, causing a small drop of blood to bead against her lip. She wasted no time in scooping the liquid up with her tongue, finding delight as she tasted the salty-sweet substance. As she leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up onto the table in front of her, she placed the pad of her pointer finger against her cut lip, tapping the small wound gently as she looked at the small boy on the screens of the numerous TVs.

Her eyes flitted from one screen to the next, taking in every detail each angle provided her with. Finally after checking each and every one her eyes settled on the one angled to show her the young boy's face and chest. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, and turned the volume of the cameras up a bit so she could hear his faint, gentle breathing.

She wondered how long he would be stuck in his comatose state. Although she was bothered by the procedures they had to do to him, she didn't want to waste any more time waiting for him to awaken.

A soft knocking on the door made her lift her eyes to it, just before it opened. In stepped in one of her closest accomplice, one of which who understood her odd fascination with the young boy. In a way, he too found an interest like her's in the boy, but it was not as intense, just a faint appeal and interest. He was more set on what the child was needed for, not really who he was or what he was capable of.

"Any signs that he will wake up soon?" His silken voice chased away the silence of the room, and a sigh soon followed his words.

"Nope, not even one." She said in a soft, bored tone, tilting her head slightly as she glanced at him.

Another sigh left the man as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket, lifting the lid to grab one before tapping it back in with his pointer and middle finger. He snatched his lighter from his pants pocket and languidly lit the long cancer stick.

"Adam will be quite irritated if the boy does not wake up soon. I wouldn't be surprised if he just has us continue on with the procedures soon, whether the boy is conscious or not." He said, his tone calm despite the fact he was becoming impatient as well.

She shook her head, bothered by her colleague's impatience and lack of sympathy for the boy she cared for.

"You know he can't do that. If we start these procedures before he is at least out of this comatose state we could easily lose our little pawn." She said and looked back to the screens, watching as the boy's body slightly twitched.

The dark skinned man sighed once again, and slowly he leaned back against the wall and followed her gaze to the screens. He watched with her as the boy slept, seemingly peaceful.

"We are all becoming impatient. There is only so much time we have to do this, and you know that." He said calmly, his equally as golden eyes drifting over to her small figure.

"Of course I know that, but what do you want me to do? My abilities can only do so much, you know." She said as she turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes glowing with a slight irritation.

He inhaled on his cigarette and slowly pulled the long cancer stick out of his mouth before tilting his head up as he exhaled, releasing the smoke slowly.

"Yes, I know, but as I said before, Adam is becoming very impatient and you know that is never a good thing." He said as he watched the mist of grey smoke float to the ceiling as slim tendrils.

"Well, if my intuition is anything to go off of then we shouldn't have too much longer to wait for him to awaken, and then we can begin our procedures again." She mumbled as she fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Are you just saying that so I will leave the subject alone," he began, "Or do you actually mean that?"

"I actually mean that." She mumbled, a bit of agitation laced into her tone.

He sighed out once again and walked over to the young girl, pulling out a chair and rolling it over to her side so he could sit down beside her.

"Explain to me what draws you to this boy so much. I admit he is interesting, but only faintly so. "The dark skinned man muttered, lifting his gaze from the numerous TV screens to his younger looking –but certainly not younger- colleague.

"I cannot really explain it." She said as she leaned back into her chair, looking almost thoughtful as her eyes stayed glued to the TV screens. "It's just something that is. Like the relationship with predator and prey. It's purely instinct, not because of some grudge or forethought reason, it just is."

Her eyes never drifted over to him, but she still could still see his features twist into an amused expression from out of her peripheral vision.

"What's with that look of yours?" She said with an edge to her words.

"I find it amusing that you used the relationship between predator and prey to describe your... Relationship, I suppose, with the boy." He said before he brought his cigarette back to his parted lips.

"Well it is the only sort of relationship I know of from experience, and know you know of too, so it was only sensible that I used it to explain it." She said as her eyes took on a sort of predatory look as she stared more intently at the sleeping boy.

He breathed out a sigh, once again exhaling and releasing hazy tendrils of smoke from his mouth.

"Ah, that is true. But it still amuses me." He uttered as his eyes once again drifted over to the possessive girl.

She huffed slightly and tapped her pointer finger against one of the buttons on the keyboard in front of her, and the cameras all took on different angles. This time her eyes focused on the one angled to show his face. Her eyes took in each of his features, going from his small nose and his slightly plump lips, then traveling to gaze at his closed lids.

She sighed and leaned back into her seat once more, hearing it creak slightly at the added pressure to the back of it. From where she sat she could reach one of the screens, and she gently traced his small rounded face.

"He's dreaming now." She murmured before letting her hand fall as she leaned forward slightly, pulling her knees up to rest her chin on them. "No, he's having a nightmare."

As if to prove her words were true, the small boy began to writhe slightly beneath the covers, tossing his head back and forth as small whimpers left his tightly closed lips.

The man stood up, his eyes containing a bit of relief and curiosity. "So he is out of that comatose state now. I have to tell Adam." He said.

When the young girl nodded in agreement he began to walk over to the door, planning on notifying the man in charge of the awakening of their patient.

As his fingers closed around the door knob a sudden scream pierced the air, disrupting the previous silence that had begun to settle over them once again. Neither jumped at the sudden sound, but both looked with suspicion at the screens angled on the now thrashing young boy.

His brown hair was sprawled out beneath his head, his brows were furrowed and his features contorted into an expression of agony. Cries of pain left him, but the cause remained unknown. Although he was a child, a simple nightmare didn't seem too believable to them as the cause of his unconscious, frightened behavior. But it was still possible.

They watched as he still thrashed about, until eventually his left arm was exposed as the blankets that had covered him fell to the ground. His left hand, with its darkened scarlet flesh, glowed with a white light produced from the cross embedded in the skin atop his hand. To most the sight would be awe inspiring, but to them, it seemed more likely to be the first sign that their procedures were failing, that his body, his mind, and even his soul could be rejecting what they had tried to force upon him.

The young girl's eyes filled with concern and she looked over to the man still at the door. Their eyes met for only a brief moment before they were both rushing out of the room and down the hall. The sound of their footsteps echoed around them each time their feet hit the hard marble floors, and the fluorescent lights cast their darting shadows over the wall.

When they made it to the room the young girl flung open the door and the two of them wasted no time in moving to the boy's side. While the man grabbed the boy's arms and legs and strapped them to the bed to keep him from thrashing about any longer, the female gently caressed the boy's face, watching as his face twisted into numerous expressions of pain.

"He'll be completely awake soon I'm sure. But that does not matter," She began, looking up at the man as he looked back at her. "He is rejecting it, just like we thought. We need to complete this, now." She said firmly.

He nodded and began to pull back the levers over the wheels of the bed that would allow them to roll the bed out of the room. As he did the young female touched the boy's face gently, watching his closed lids flutter slightly before snapping open.

Grey orbs the color of a winter sky stared up at her, filled with the fear and pain that consumed him completely. Once again, she felt that rush of feelings, but willed the tears away before they could begin to fall. This was no time for tears, only for actions, and actions that needed to be taken. She walked away from him to help her accomplice in pulling the bed from the room, rolling it down the hall as the boy twisted and pulled on his bindings.

It seemed like he tried to speak, but the pain was too intense for him to make out even one audible word. So instead he lay panting with agony as he writhed, pulling continually on the ties at his wrist and ankles.

Tears beaded against the rims of his eyes and soon spilled over, trailing down his pale cheeks as he lifted his head, dazedly looking around as they pulled the bed into one rooms before stopping. His hazy eyes watched them close the door before he looked around, then realizing where they were.

He began to struggle more, though his attempts to get free were futile. Many times he had been forced into this room, always when they wanted to continue their procedures, but this was one of the only times he was able to freely move his body for they had been rushing to get him here so much they forgot to sedate him, or maybe they didn't even need to this time.

He fell back against the bed, letting a small cry escape him as they closed over him. The young girl took his wrist into her one hand while her other hand held a scalpel. The sharp blade glinted dully in the light as she brought it down to his wrist. Sparing one last glance up at his tortured gaze, she drew the blade over his pulse point, hearing him cry out at the pain of his skin being broken by the metal.

In seconds, blood began to fall from the wound she created. It quickly created a dark puddle of liquid on the floor as it dripped down from his overturned wrist. The rusty scent filled the air, creating a tension between the two beings completing the procedure, but their minds were set on what they need to do and the intoxicating scent did not faze them.

Slowly the elder male walked over to where the dark skinned girl had been, holding a vial of dark liquid within his hand. To the child, it looked like blood, but he couldn't be sure because of how dark it was.

The dark skinned man grabbed his wrist, watching as the blood of the boy dripped slowly down his arm. A flash of hunger appeared in his honey eyes before he brought the vial of dark liquid to the boy's wrist, slowly tipping the glass until the dark substance poured down into the open wound.

For a moment the boy went silent and still, seemingly paralyzed, before his stormy eyes widened and a scream tore its way from his throat. Pain surged through his small form, causing it to jerk and convulse at the painful sensation that coursed through him.

The man watched him for only a moment before pouring more of the liquid onto the wound, watching as the substance was absorbed into the wound the girl created. After the liquid was gone his honey eyes stayed trained on the wound, waiting for the reaction that had to come unless they were to fail once again.

When it did he sighed, watching curiously as the wound was closed by the dark substance as it became solid, creating a crimson luster for the puckered scar that remained on his wrist. It was working this time. They did not know the reason for their success but were glad nonetheless and quickly went to finish the procedure.

They created three more wounds – one on each of his ankles, and one on his other wrist – each of which was sealed by the dark substance that was poured over them. The pain that had surged through him with each cut made the young boy weak and he no longer thrashed or writhed about upon the bed, but instead simply laid silently as he stared up at the ceiling, being blinded by the fake lighting.

His body felt heavy from the loss of blood, his mind was barely able of even creating coherent thoughts, and his vision became hazy every so often. His wrist and ankles were sore from the wounds and all he could do was hope it was over when they began to back away from him

From the sides of the bed the dark skinned and golden eyed man and girl watched the child, looking over their work and making sure it was perfected. When they found no flaws the young girl looked to the man and nodded before grabbing a small decorative dagger with a twisted blade from the small table beside the hospital-like bed. When he returned to her side he held a necklace in his hands. A diamond shaped vial hung from the velvet covered necklace, holding a black, thick looking liquid. A small cork kept the vial closed but the man pulled it out as he approached the young girl.

She took the necklace from his hand and held the tiny vial between her pointer finger and thumb on her right hand, tilting the blade of the dagger in her hand onto its side before she lifted the vial above it, pouring two drops of the liquid onto the metal before closing it again with the small cork. As the cork closed the small vial, the two drops of the dark substance stretched and spread over the blade until it was glistening with an ominous black sheen.

The girl spared one last glance down at the boy, looking into his weary fearful eyes as she brushed back his damp locks from his face. She bent down and let her lips touch his cheek gently before she straightened out again, taking a moment to bask in the peaceful atmosphere around them before she plunged the blade into the skin above his left eye.

His lips parted into a silent scream as she dug the blade deeper into his flesh, watching as blood began to pour from the newly made wound, staining his dark locks with a deep scarlet. She felt a pang of guilt, but simply ignored the emotion tugging at her heart and pulled the blade down his skin, listening as a sickening ripping sort of sound reverberated in the room as a path of opened flesh was revealed.

She pulled the blade down over his eyebrow, pausing only briefly before jerking it out of his skin until only a bit of the blade still remained within his flesh. She then dragged it down over his closed lid, watching as more blood began to ooze from the pale looking boy. A cry left him and his chest heaved as she drove the blade deeper into his skin once it had passed over his eye, splitting the flesh of his cheek. Down it went once again before she twisted the blade, pulling it now to the right before jerking it down his chin in a curve.

She quickly extracted the blade from within his skin, only to plunge it back in once again in his cheek, this time more in the direction of his nose. She dragged the blade across the other mark, ending the smaller, but deep cut a few centimeters from the edge of the split skin of the other wound.

Slowly she backed away from him then, dropping the dagger as she watched the young boy, waiting for the sign that would notify them of their success.

It appeared only seconds later. They watched with smiles upon their faces as a thick liquid began to fill the wounds from the inside, slowly closing them and creating a deep, jagged scar. The other scars upon his body slowly faded as one more appeared. Above where the wound had first been created, where the blade first touched the skin of his face, sprouted the image of a star, painted in blood. The wounds the blood sprung up from were not as deep, but the star shaped wound formed into a pink scar that was as swollen and jagged as the others.

As the scar appeared upon his forehead the boy's eyes rolled into the back of his head before his lids closed, and slowly his hair faded from a chestnut brown to a pure white. They watched as once again, he passed out, but this time from the success of their procedures.

The two standing beside the bed smiled maliciously as they stared at the scars upon his face. They were the mark of their success, the mark of the plan that had been formulated long ago. The mark that would someday ensue perfection in the corrupted world, and it was sealed by the mark of the star, the pentacle, the mark of evil.


	2. Chapter one

_"Allen... Allen..."_

As his senses began to return and he fell out of the dormant state he found himself in moments before, that was the first thing he heard. It drifted through his mind once, then twice, and then again. The voice was soft and sweet like honey. Smooth and cool like the finest silk.

_"Allen..."_

His name was called once again in that delicate tone. Somehow, it felt as if the voice actually contained a presence or some sort of supernatural force as he felt the warmth of the feminine voice caress his body with the sweetness of a lover's touch.

If the boy had the ability to shiver he would have as the gentle tone reached his ears yet again and sent a chill down his spine. It comforted him like the lullaby of a mother might comfort a child. Just as the voice started to make him relax, his mind suddenly recognized the gentle tone, but as its familiarity registered in his mind a new sort of sensation reached him as he heard that voice calling out to him again and again. It gave off a dangerous feeling now, powerful enough to make the muscles in his un-moving body tense and shake.

_Un-moving..?_

His mind finally processed that despite his efforts he was unable to even bend one of his fingers, let alone any other body part. The unexpected paralysis shocked him and set his mind into an overload of questions.

_Why can't I move? Where am I?_

The questions remained unanswered as it became a struggle within his own conscious mind to gain any sort of control that he could. But no matter how much he willed his body to move, no matter how much he strained mentally, his body didn't move even one centimeter once.

It frustrated him to no end, but what was he to do? He couldn't find any solution, none came to mind as he just laid there hoping he could find some way out of this terrible paralysis. It frightened him, had his heart rapidly beating inside of his chest and pumping his blood through his body, creating the strong, fast pulse at his wrists.

_"Allen... Allen... Allen..."_

The voice finally returned after practically dissolving into the depths of the endless air around him. His mind resumed pondering over its familiar sound as it washed over him with the effects of both a refreshing spray of cool water and the burn of an uncontrollable flame.

He knew he heard it before, but from where, he wasn't sure. Every time he tried to think over it it was as if something blocked his memories, as if something tried to keep him from discovering the truth on purpose.

Well, if something was attempting to hide the truth, it was certainly doing a good job at that for he could not remember anything that could even relate to the gentle yet predatory voice he heard. But yet again another inquiry surfaced to question the reason behind some force or person keeping him from remembering.

Nothing was making any sense around him any longer; the confusion that consumed him almost had the ability to make him feel as if he was insane. Almost...

He would never let such a feeling consume him completely, at least not without a fight.

When the effeminate voice beckoned him again and he suddenly felt a surge of pure energy shoot through his body. The sensation was odd and powerful, surprising him enough to cause a gasp to fall from his dry lips as it started to rapidly dissolve into nothingness. He wished he could grab on to the power of that surge and use it to pull him from this nightmare of a state. But as he was about to begin sulking over his chance leaving him, he realized that a gasp had left him.

His lips had been able to move. When had he been given this ability?

He hoped that the rest of his body would be given this same ability, but as he tried to move his fingers and hands he realized that he still did not have that ability yet. Hopelessness crawled through his veins, beginning to consume his entire being slowly.

_How will I ever leave this place? Am I condemned to spend the rest of eternity in this paralyzed state?_

_"Open your eyes, Allen." _

The voice called out to him again, this time with a message instead of just simply an utterance of his name. It seemed clearer now as if the holder of that voice was closing in on him from some unknown place. He wanted to scream at the voice though.

_I cannot open my eyes, I cannot open my eyes!_

As his frustration swarmed his mind and feelings he felt his eyes opening, shocking himself. The shock he felt must have been evident somehow for moments later he heard that voice again, although this time no words were uttered. This time he heard soft laughter that reminded him of bells.

It echoed around him as he looked around. His gaze was met with no images, no colors, it was only greeted by a dark, inky blackness. Were his eyes really open, he wondered. Or was he simply within a realm denied of the precious light he wanted, no needed so much at that very moment?

So many of his questions remained unanswered. This wasn't the time to worry about that though, he needed to figure out what he could actually do. His eyes could open and close, he could look around. That was good.. He attempted to move his arm but once again he found himself unable to do so. His fingers twitched though, he could moves his toes, but that was it.

His eyes roamed the darkness around him once again. He searched for even just one speck of color, one single ray of light. He found nothing, nothing at all.

All of a sudden, the darkness around him shifted violently. His body was carelessly tossed to the right and to the left like a rag doll. He felt so sick to his stomach, he thought for a moment he might throw up. His hands flailed out around him as he was tossed forward once again by the shifting air around him. He reached out and tried to grab onto something.

A new sensation reached him. The air around his body began to solidify into a sticky, thick, liquid. As he landed in it after being flung around again, he felt it rise and bubble up to cup the form of his body. It was wet and cold, thick and disgusting.

He shivered and shuddered as he tried to move out of the mess. He'd gained control of his body now, but even that wasn't relieving at the moment. He was freezing, yet as the liquid covered more of his body it began to feel as if it was burning him as well.

He gasped out as the two feelings clashed and mixed together, creating an unpleasant sensation. The exterior of his body cooled down to the point that the bitter cold stung. His interior warmed up to the point it burned.

He gasped out in pain as his body began to tremble and jolt. It hurt so much and the pain distracted his mind. It kept him from trying to get away from the realm he was stuck within. He struggled and fought as the thick liquid began to bubble up more to the point that it actually covered his feet and then began to cover his legs.

He realized with a start that the liquid began to pull him down. As it covered his ankles his body tilted and slipped further into the gunk surrounding him. Panic consumed him instantly. He struggled, kicking his feet, punching the thick air that was left around him.

But alas, his efforts were for naught. His body sunk further into the gunk. The boy's heart beat wildly inside of his chest as he continued to struggle. He was afraid of what would happen once the liquid consumed him completely. He was afraid to die, no, he wasn't just afraid, he knew he couldn't die just yet.

Seconds ticked by, but it felt as if it were hours or even days. He battled against the constant sinking, but it wasn't long before the inky substance was already up to his chest. His resolve began to dissolve like the voice had into the air.

At that moment he longed for the holder of that voice, he wished to reach out to them, to plead for the help he direly needed. But no one was there to save him. He was unable to even save himself. Helplessness crept into his mind and positioned his thoughts, making him struggle less and less.

His eyes fluttered close as the substance crept up over his chin and inched its way up to his mouth. He stretched his mouth into a thin line as it began to pass over his lips and he squirmed within the thick coagulated substance.

Finally, after such a torturous long time, the substance finally covered his noise and sucked him down until he was completely submerged within the liquid. There was no air, no way for him to breath. He shifted around in the liquid as he relied on the air still in his lungs to keep him alive as he searched for an exit from this terrible nightmare.

His air became thin within his lungs and in seconds his chest began to constrict. His pulse jumped wildly as his heart thudded inside of his chest. A burning sensation shot up his throat and down his chest as his body craved the air he desperately needed but could not get.

As he deprived himself of air, he felt his head start to spin. He felt dizzy, his body trembled, and the more he struggled, the more his body began to give in. Fatigue filled his form, he stopped moving, too weak to do anything any longer.

This can't be the end, he thought as he felt his body being pulled deeper into the gunk.

_ But what am I supposed to do? _

_There's nothing I can do._

As he began to give in to the thought of death, a tingling sensation crawled up his spine. It jolted him out of his fatigued state and into awareness once again. He opened his mouth, forgetting about the liquid completely, and gasped for air. But instead of his mouth being filled with that horrible substance, sweet air filled his deprived lungs.

His eyes snapped open and he cried out in delight when his eyes met the sight of an azure sky. He could see again! How wonderful it was to see something other than an inky blackness.

So caught up within his bliss, he didn't realize at first that he was really falling. When he finally did, his gaze shifted downwards. It was a blur of greens and blues beneath him. He couldn't make out anything he saw. But what he could tell, was that he would soon hit whatever lay beneath him.

He closed his eyes once again and braced himself for the impact. But even after what felt like hours, it never came. The falling sensation has vanished as well.

Curious, he peeked his eyes open and found the sight of a beautiful meadow waiting before him. His eyes widened as he took in the pleasant surprise. It was so beautiful, especially when it was compared to that last region he had been in.

Long stalks of healthy green grass stood tall and covered the entire field. Spots of violet, cerulean, scarlet, and gold dotted the expansive meadow in various spots where flowers of different kinds stood above the grass.

The meadow continued on into the distance, creating the image of a sort of wave of greens and yellows. It met with the beautiful sky off in the distance like the waves of the ocean seemed to touch a sunset. The sight was extraordinary and gorgeous, especially since the sky had turned into a deep lavender.

The boy lifted his head and gazed up at the dark sky. His silver eyes grew large and shined with awe as he looked up into the depth of the dark purple sky. It was beautiful, something he couldn't help but admire. Along it's dark surface black spots in the sky sparkled, looking almost like diamonds among the ethereal sky.

_What a wonderful world.. It's hard to believe what a horrible situation I had been in just moments ago.._

As his eyes traced the new land, the new views, it came to rest on the large moon within the sky and the sun beside it. A small smile twisted the corner of his lips up at the clashing sight. Night and day, darkness and light.. Such complete opposites that existed together, always. It was a peculiar sight to see the two opposite representatives within the same sky, but it created a sense of balance, like a peaceful collision of two forces. The only other odd thing about it was that the moon was a deep white, the color of pristine snow, while the sun was as black as the inky darkness he had encountered moments ago.

He shifted slightly and felt the soft soil beneath him cave into the pressure of his weight as he stood up slowly. The soft leaves beneath him crunched as he straightened his spine and began to turn around to look at more of the meadow.

The first thing he noticed was the Cherry Blossom tree. It's long, dark branches stretched out across a good portion of the meadow and shadowed the long stalks of healthy grass, making it take on the shade of a darker green. Pinks and whites dotted the slim branches where the delicate blossoms resided and their beauty made him smile.

Cherry Blossoms were something he had always been fascinated by. The tree was strong and sturdy, but the blossoms were so frail. The tree itself was a contradiction of its own elements, but it gave off a powerful message to him: Even if your exterior is frail like the pretty blossoms that adorned the tree and is destroyed, your structure can be strong and can withstand it. You can live on..

The air around him stirred and a gentle breeze wafted around him, lifting the clothes clinging to his form and his ivory locks of hair. He watched, dazzled, as the wind separated some of the blossoms from their branches carefully. They rose in the sky, carried by the gentle wind that swirled around the tree and caught more blossoms within its gentle grasp.

Pink dotted the sky as the wind became a whirlpool of air, twirling the flowers round and round and they fell and rose again and again. It was like an air show with the blossoms, created solely for his own enjoyment and entertainment.

Laughter bubbled up to his lips and released. It echoed around him as he smiled wildly, enjoying the wonderful display before his eyes. Such beauty this world held, it almost made him want to stay. But in his heart, the very core of his soul, he knew he didn't belong here. He could not stay, no matter how much he wanted or wished to.

Despite that thought, he still felt blissful. Even if this would only be a single moment of happiness for him, he would enjoy it to the fullest extent. He stepped forward and began to walk across the meadow, heading for the Cherry Blossom tree.

Once he reached it he stood beneath its protective, lowered branches. He reached out and ran his hand over the rough, tough dark bark of the tree. As he always knew, it was strong, so very sturdy. His gaze drifted to the blossoms and he reached out and gently plucked one from the slim branch. It fell down into his palm and he brought the flower closer to his face.

He gently stroked a frail petal with the pad of his finger. It was so soft, he enjoyed the gentle texture. He leaned down, pressing the flower close to his nose so he could inhale the fresh,floral scent. He hummed in approval as the smell reached his nostrils and he inhaled deeply.

Slowly he turned around and leaned back against the tree. He smelt the flower, touched its soft petals, and smiled before lifting it to his face again. He held his palm in front of his mouth with his fingers out stretched. He gently shifted his lips into an 'O' and blew a gentle stream of air towards the blossom. It's petals fluttered and lifted the blossom on the stream of air, shooting itself straight off of his hand languidly.

He watched it float away silently enjoying the sight as the breeze pressed against his body. As his eyes followed the blossoms path, it caught onto a new sight only a few feet away. It was tall and dark. He couldn't make out anything other than that at first. He squinted and leaned forward and the image began to clear more but not entirely.

It was a person. That much he could tell, but who, he did not know. Their figure was dark and stood still, but the image itself was twitching, glitchy. He could tell by the shape, the subtle curves, that it was a girl, but he couldn't make out anything else about her.

"Who are you?"

It was the first time he had attempted to speak and he was relieved to hear his voice.

_"Do you not remember me or even the sound of my voice?" _The figure said. Its voice was that of the unknown person, the one who he had awaken to hear.

"No.. I don't know who you are. I recognize your voice though... Can you not tell me who you are?" He asked the mysterious girl.

Laughter floated from the form, once again with the gentle sound of bells ringing in the distance.

_You have to remember me yourself, Allen." _The figure started to clear a bit, but only enough that he could make out golden irises, dark skin, and a wide smile. The figure's hand pushed its hand out and wagged its finger at Allen. _"No cheating allowed." _

"I can't, I've already tried." He uttered as he stepped forward and slowly began to walk towards the effeminate figure.

_"Try harder." _She laughed again, but this time the sound wasn't sweet. It was cold, icy. He froze, his feet stopping right at the edge of the shadow the Cherry Blossom tree cast down on the earth.

"Why are you here?" He asked, his suspicion getting the better of him. "You didn't bother to appear when I was struggling.." He mumbled. "So why did you appear now?"

_"I need to give you my message." _She said and giggled.

"Message?" He inquired.

The figure's head nodded slowly. "_Yes, a message." _

"What is it then?" He said, impatience underlining his tone.

_"Your future is dark, covered in blood and filled with deceit and manipulation. The path you will follow cannot be completely changed, but you can find a way to alter some of it. Choose your decisions carefully from now on or you will pay for them with blood, desolation, and despair.."_

His eyes widened in surprise. From her words, his future sounded bleak, horrible.. That couldn't be true. "What do you mean? Explain this to me more!" He exclaimed. He took a step forward, stepping out of the boundary of the shadow.

Suddenly, the peaceful air around him shattered.

His silver irises expanded as he fell to his knees instantly. A gasp fell from his lips as he heard rumbling, cracking. The ground began to shake, back and forth he swayed as the ground beneath him jumped and jolted continually. He looked up at the figure and found it glitching again and starting to fade.

"Don't go! You can't leave just yet!" He shouted.

The figure didn't listen, nor did it speak to him any longer. It continued to fade until only particles were left in the air. Suddenly, a great gust of wind passed by him. It carried off the particles until he could no longer see them glittering within the dark light shining down from the sun and moon above him.

He tried to stand up as the earth shook but he couldn't make it onto his feet without falling. The quake was too powerful. Once again he found himself struggling; struggling to move, struggling to make sense of what was going on.

"Ah!" He cried out in surprised and pain as something wet landed on his arm and burned it. He glanced down and found a liquid rolling down his forearm. It was pink, but the center writhed with red, almost reminding him of a surging wave or lava. It burnt his skin, turning it a deep red. He quickly rubbed it off of his arm and then onto the grass as it began to sting against his palm. But then the same burning sensation hit his other arm, then his back, then his leg.

He screamed as it began to scorch him again and again. It was falling from above him and hesitantly he looked up. The blossoms were melting. They were literally dissolving into a scorching hot liquid of pink and scarlet and were dropping upon him and burning him like acid.

He couldn't move, he was being rocked back and forth, and an acid-like substance kept falling onto his body..

Wonderful, he thought.

He began to look back down at the ground, but before he could lower his head another drop of that substance fell, this time onto his eye. He screamed out in agony and raised his hand and covered his eye as the liquid seeped into his eye, burning it and creating a horrible sensation of pain.

"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts!" He shouted in agony and his body shook with the force of his anguish. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing it would stop but he knew it wouldn't somehow. Darkness replaced light as his eyes stayed closed. The darkness slowly rippled like a wave as his body fell back and he screamed. It kept rippling like a wave, his sense of smell, touch, and hearing vanished but he could tell he was still screaming.

"Allen..! Allen..! Allen..!"

Another familiar voice reached his head ears but this time he recognized who it belonged to. His eyes opened and he was relieved to see he was no longer within the ethereal region but in his bedroom, in his bed. Sweat rolled down from his forehead and a bead of the salty substance slid down his nose as he looked up at the man, the one he considered to be his father although he certainly wasn't, biologically.

"Mana." He breathed, his soft voice filled with relief.

Mana smiled at Allen and sat down on the edge of his bed. He ruffled Allen's soft locks as he looked into the boy's gray eyes. "You were having a nightmare. I could hear you screaming down the hall, it scared the life out of me." He said.

"I'm sorry I woke you up." Allen uttered as he stared into Mana's dark eyes.

A large smile lit up the man's face and he reached out and ruffled Allen's hair. "You don't need to apologize. I was going to have to wake up soon anyway. So would you." He said and nodded towards Allen's night stand.

Allen glanced over towards his night stand and instantly his eyes went to the blinking red lights that formed numbers on his digital alarm clock. It was eleven fifteen. "Oh, it's later than I expected it to be." He mumbled. Slowly he shifted so he could sit up and he yawned.

"You should take a shower, wash off all that sweat and relax." Mana said as he stood up. Allen nodded and sighed. "Yeah, you're right." He uttered. As Mana walked to the door Allen kicked his legs over the side of his bed and slid off the side until his feet touched the floor. He stood up and rubbed at the back of his neck as he sighed and his eyes fluttered close.

"What a horrible dream.. But it was just a dream." He said. He ran his hand through his hair as he walked out of his room and down the narrow hallway of the apartment he lived in with his father. His feet met the cold tile of the bathroom seconds after he walked into the hallway and he shivered. After closing the door he turned on the shower water and pulling off his sweat drenched clothes.

Moments later he was stepping into the shower. The hot water fell down onto his form and he sighed. It was so relieving. He rolled his shoulder joints and let his head fall back as he sighed. His body was aching and felt so tense and strained. The hot water helped a bit though.

After standing still beneath the spray of water for a while, Allen grabbed a wash cloth and some soap. He began to wash off. First his chest, and then his arms. But he hesitated when he came to his left arm.

Scarlet, wrinkled flesh caught his gaze and he stared at his deformed left arm. A grimace made it's way onto his face as he stared at the sparkling green cross embedded in his flesh. It was what caused most of the hardships in his life; being abandoned, being tormented, living on the streets.. He was lucky someone as kind and open minded as Mana had come along that snowy winter day and taken him in.

He was sure if Mana hadn't taken him in that night he would have starved or froze to death. He was already close to it when the man passed by that dark alley where even the moonlight couldn't cast a light upon his shaking body.

A small, somber smile passed over his face. Despite all the times throughout the years that Mana told him he was special, that his arm was a gift from God himself, he couldn't really bring himself to believe the man. How could he after what it did to him, even if it did many good things?

Still, he had to admit that without his arm being like this he would have never met Mana.. Which was something he never regretted letting happen. He loved the man with all his heart. In his eyes, that truly was his father, whether he was blood or not.

After a while Allen finally stepped out of the shower. A towel was wrapped around his slim waist and and he used another towel to try to dry his hair. When he finished he brushed his teeth, combed his hair out, and then walked back to his room so he could get dressed.

His outfit was simple, clean, yet suited him well. He wore a pair of dark, navy blue jeans that almost looked black. They were loose around the legs but clung to every curve and contour around his waist. A simple, tight fitting gray shirt with long sleeves adorned his torso and covered his ghastly red arm. To cover the cross upon his hand he wore finger-less leather gloves. To top it all off he wore black leather boots.

After making sure he looked alright he flopped back onto his bed and sighed. The soft comforter on his bed felt cool and soft against the bit of flesh his clothing didn't cover and he let his hand glide over the soft fabric. Languidly, he rolled onto his stomach and propped his head up with his elbows and hands. He looked around his little room and sighed as his sight passed over the dozens of boxes that were pressed against the corners of his room. He knew today was the day they would be moving to that little town right outside of the state. The small house they found was nice but he would miss the little apartment he practically grew up in.

"Allen!"

Allen could hear Mana calling his name from down the hall. He sat up quickly and walked over to the doorway of his small room. "Yeah?" He called out and listened for a reply.

"Breakfast is done. Come eat so we can get ready to leave." Mana said from the kitchen.

"Alright!"

Allen flicked his room's lights off before he trotted down the hall to the small kitchen. His eyes fell open the two plates - one with a small amount of bacon and eggs and another with copious amounts of the food. Obviously the latter was his.

He plopped down on one of the chairs and started digging in, much to Mana's amusement.

"Slow down, Allen." He said and chuckled whilst picking at his own food carefully.

"U no I cam'f" Came Allen's distorted reply, his mouth full of food.

Mana sighed and shook his head as a small smile made it's way onto his face. He made out Allen's reply which had been, 'You know I can't.'

"Yes you can. Now slow down. We don't need you getting sick while we move boxes or are driving." He said firmly yet softly.

Allen hesitantly began to slow down, but he still stuffed his mouth. Once again he heard Mana laugh and the let out a soft sigh. "I wonder what your classmates will think when they see how you eat." He said.

Allen paused when stuffing a piece of bacon into his mouth. He chewed it carefully before swallowing and then sighing. "They'll probably think what the kids before thought." He said and shrugged.

"Possibly.. Those were mostly negative thoughts though Allen. Do you want it to be the same in the new school?" He asked.

"Not really.. But I can't help my appetite." He mumbled and looked at Mana.

Mana sighed and just nodded as he grabbed his glass of orange juice. "True, you can't. Well, try to make the best of it Allen."

"You know I will Mana." Allen uttered and smiled at Mana, hiding the fact that he actually was nervous over going to a new school His experiences with other children weren't very good, but he hope for once it would be different.


End file.
